


Disorder

by entanglednow



Category: Inception
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long train journeys without distraction are impossibly tedious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disorder

  
Long train journeys without distraction are impossibly tedious. Eames would have afforded this one the same description if not for one rather important fact.

Arthur is currently sleeping on his shoulder.

He hadn't fallen asleep there. He'd been sleeping next to him originally, head tipped back on the seat, frown visible between his eyes. Eames knows because he found it amusing. Cobb had scowled across at him, like he'd prefer to be sleeping as well. But he's either unwilling or unable, because he's still scowling.

The train's slow, steady rhythm had gently and relentlessly tipped Arthur sideways, and now the side of his head is pressed into Eames shoulder.

The magazine Arthur had been reading has slid down, curved half over his leg and half on the seat. Threatening to tumble to the floor on every sway. It's still splayed open on an article about sleep disorders, which seems like a rather fitting irony.

Sometimes sleep isn't about work, sometimes it's simply a necessity. Even Arthur sometimes has to cave to the time-consuming demands of necessity.

Arthur's still frowning in his sleep, like he knows he's being watched, or, like he's found some complex problem to solve. Though Eames always thinks he protests about that far too much. Eames thinks Arthur secretly enjoys the challenge of it. The complex variables in a meticulous plan and their ability to shift at will.

A thousand tiny details.

Arthur's all about the details.

The train shudders and Arthur makes a noise, soft, protesting. Eames tips, just a fraction, back into the seat. The press of hair against the side of his neck, and the warm breath curling down into his shirt is perhaps more of a distraction than he intended but he suspects the only alternative is to wake Arthur. Which he's loath to do.

Of course, he very much doubts Arthur would put up with this if he knew. It's terribly encouraging after all, and Arthur does so _hate_ to encourage him.

Cobb shoots him a look which he chooses to ignore. Before the other man leans forward, slowly, and very carefully steals the magazine, which has now slipped entirely onto the seat. Though even after a slow period of flicking he doesn't seem to find anything he's willing to actually read.

Maybe he simply wanted something to squint at in thoughtful silence.

The next time Eames eyes slide sideways he discovers that Arthur's hair has fallen to one side. There's a dark line of it across his closed eye that's almost shamelessly untidy. Eames is tempted, impossibly tempted, to push it back, but he suspects that's more indulgence than anything else.

Besides, he thinks he likes it where it is. That slice of disorder is very fetching.

  



End file.
